Fake Harley
by Christine M. Greenleaf
Summary: When the Joker and Harley Quinn break up, Joker hires a new henchgirl to replace her, whom he names Fake Harley. Fake Harley turns out to be the perfect sidekick, much to real Harley's dismay. She thinks the Joker must be overjoyed to have a competent henchgirl at last. She doesn't know the Joker as well as she thinks.
1. Chapter 1

**Fake Harley**

"You sure J's gonna be ok with us just taking off early like this, Harley?" asked Rocco, reaching for his jacket.

"He will today," said Harley, nodding. "It's our anniversary, Roc. Mr. J won't have forgotten. He'll be glad that all you henchguys have cleared out early so he and I can have a little private time with just the two of us. I made pie," she murmured dreamily, gesturing to a giant cream pie in the center of the room.

"O…K," said Rocco slowly. "Well, if he changes his mind, he needs to call my cell phone. I won't be at home tonight."

"Got a hot date, Roc?" asked Harley, smiling at him.

"No," replied Rocco. "But I do get to spend the evening with a very attractive young woman. I'm meeting my daughter for dinner."

"Aw, I'm so glad you got back in touch with her, Roc!" said Harley, beaming. "Y'know, it's important to show the people you love that you care. Which is why I made that pie for Mr. J. And why I'm gonna pop out of it when he gets home, so he can lick all the cream off me nice and slowly, if ya know what I mean," she said, grinning.

"Er…yeah," stammered Rocco. He looked from the pie to her. "How are you…uh…gonna breathe in there?"

Harley stared at him. "Hmm…hadn't thought about that," she muttered, looking around. She seized a straw. "This'll work!" she said. "I'll just pop this out and breathe through it."

"Ok. Well, have a nice evening, Harley. And congrats to you and J," said Rocco, heading for the door.

"Um…Roc…can I ask a quick favor?" asked Harley, rushing after him.

"Sure, Harley, anything, you know that," replied Rocco, smiling at her.

"Can you…uh…help me into the pie?" asked Harley, nodding at it.

Rocco sighed, and then took off his jacket. "Yeah, fine, Harley. I'll just call Angela and tell her I'm gonna be late."

"Roc, what the hell happened to you?" asked the Joker, as he got out of his car to see Rocco emerging from the warehouse, covered in foam. "Is that pie filling?"

"Cream pie filling, yeah," sighed Rocco. "Just gonna go home to get changed before I meet my daughter for dinner…"

"Hang on, Roc, you can't leave," said Joker. "I got a job I wanna pull tonight."

Rocco stared at him. "Oh. Well…Harley's given the guys the night off."

"What?!" demanded Joker, furiously. "That dumb broad! What the hell did she do that for?!"

"It's…your anniversary," said Rocco, slowly.

Joker stared at him. "My anniversary of what?"

"Uh…no, your and Harley's anniversary," said Rocco. "As a couple. Apparently it's been eight years. Congratulations."

Joker continued to stare at him. "Eight…years?" he stammered. "Eight years that uselss waste of space has been weighing me down? Oh God, it's seemed so much longer than that!" He sighed, burying his face in his hands. "And she's planned some sort of surprise, hasn't she? Involving a cream pie?"

"Yeah. She's gonna…come out of a cream pie," said Rocco. "Singing. I think it'll mean a lot to her if you act surprised, though. She went through a lot of effort, and…"

"Oh God, this is going to be painful," interrupted Joker, massaging his temples. He brightened suddenly. "Any chance she'll suffocate in the pie if I wait out here and have a cigar instead?" he asked, hopefully.

"Uh…no, I don't think so," replied Rocco. "She's got a straw for air."

Joker snapped his fingers in annoyance. "Stupid, just not stupid enough," he muttered. "That's the problem with Harley, Roc. Oh well, better get this over with," he sighed. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah. Enjoy your anniversary," said Rocco, sincerely.

Joker looked at him. "You got a cruel sense of humor, Roc," he muttered. "I dunno where you get it from."

Joker opened the door to the warehouse, flicking on the lights. "Harley?" he called. "Harl…"

"_Happy Anniversary, Mr. J, you're really swell and ok_…" sang Harley, emerging from the giant cream pie slowly and seductively.

"Stop, stop, stop," interrupted Joker. "You can't sing, Harley, so please don't try."

"Oh…ok, Mr. J," said Harley, looking a little hurt. But she resumed her smile almost immediately. "Wanna try some of my pie?" she whispered, picking up some of the filling on her finger and slowly licking it off. "I'm sure you'll want seconds."

Joker forced a smile. "Look, cupcake, Daddy's not really in the mood for this tonight, ok?"

"But…it's our anniversary, Mr. J," said Harley, her face falling again. "And I…I made a joke and everything. It's a Harley pie, y'see, and Harley pie is what you usually call my…"

"Yeah, I get it, Harl," interrupted Joker. "And how many times have I told you not to explain jokes?"

Tears pooled in Harley's eyes, but she forced a smile again. "Ok, puddin', you ain't in the mood for pie, that's fine," she said, trying to wipe it off. "No problem. What did you have in mind for our anniversary?"

"Actually I…had a job planned for tonight," said Joker.

"A job?" repeated Harley. She grinned. "Sounds sexy. So what, Mr. J, you want me to be the helpless policewoman you got cornered? Or maybe you want me tied up and held hostage, huh?"

"Harley…"

"Oh, I know, you're in the mood for a little Batgirl, huh, Mr. J?" she purred. "Y'know, someone who'll beat you up a little before you hold her down and…"

"Harley, I meant a real job," interrupted Joker. "A heist. Y'know. We break into a bank, Batsy shows up, we have some laughs, and the game starts all over again."

Harley gazed at him. "What's Bats got to do with our anniversary, puddin'?" she asked.

"Nothing, but…"

"It's our special day," she whispered. "When we met. When I fell in the love with the most wonderful guy in the whole wide world, a guy who always makes me laugh, who…"

She continued to talk, but Joker stopped listening, and began thinking about whether hitting the bank or the museum would be more fun, and how many security guards he could conceivably kill before Batman got there.

"You ain't listening to a word I said, are ya?" snapped Harley suddenly.

"Of course I am, pumpkin pie," replied Joker.

"So what did I just say?" demanded Harley, glaring at him.

He stared at her. "Uh…that you love me?"

"That was a lucky guess!" shrieked Harley. "This is so typical of you, Mr. J! Always putting the Bat first! I get maybe a handful of days a year when I'm the most important person in your life, and you're trying to ruin one of 'em by making it another Bat Day! But it ain't a Bat Day, puddin'! It's a Harley Day!"

"Look, you should just be grateful I keep you around at all," snapped Joker. "You should be damn happy that I haven't killed you in eight years, and not get all upset and complain whenever I have more important things to do than try to satisfy a woman who literally can't ever get enough!"

"That's because you never give me anything!" shouted Harley. "Every night it's Batman, Batman, Batman! I'm sick of his goddamn name, Mr. J! Eight years I've been treated like this, and enough is enough! You gotta choose once and for all! Him or me!"

Joker snorted. "Don't make me laugh, Harley," he muttered. "Not that you ever have. Obviously I'm gonna choose Bats."

Harley stared at him, heartbroken, and spilling tears. But a moment later, her eyes grew furious, and she wiped them away angrily. "Fine," she hissed. "Fine, you ungrateful jerk! If that's the way you treat me after years of love and affection…"

"Years of nagging and smothering, I think you mean," retorted Joker. "You know what your problem is, Harley? You're too stupid to understand that I don't love you, and I haven't ever loved you. You're too stupid to realize that I played you for a fool just to break outta Arkham. You are, amazingly, the one person in the world who just doesn't get that I'm the Joker, that I've never meant a word I've said to you, and that our relationship has always been one great, big, unfunny, painful joke."

Harley gazed at the sincerity in his eyes and suddenly let out a sob. Then she slapped him hard across the face and raced from the room. Joker wiped pie filling from his eye. "Stupid brat," he muttered. "Guess I better call the guys, and…what the hell are you doing?" he demanded as Harley re-entered the room, clutching her handbag.

"I'm leaving, you sick bastard," she hissed, tears rushing down her cheeks. "It's over now. For good. Eight years of my life I wasted on you, but no more. Now I've heard the truth from your own lips. And it is true, isn't it, Mr. J?" she demanded, glaring at him. "You meant every word you just said."

"Yeah," retorted Joker. "I did, for once. Well done, Harley – you're getting better," he sneered.

Harley glared at him and headed for the front door. He seized her arm. "You ain't leaving – we got a job to pull tonight!" he snapped.

"So pull it yourself!" shrieked Harley. "I never wanna see you again, Mr. J, let alone help you! I hope the Bat breaks every bone in your body, and takes you back to Arkham in pieces, you horrible, horrible monster!"

She slapped him hard again and then raced out of the warehouse, sobbing. "Harley!" shouted Joker. "Harley, come back here now! I'm gonna beat your face into the ground for hitting me! Harley! You got a job to do, you lazy little brat! Harley!"

She had disappeared into the night, and Joker gazed after her. Then he shrugged, shutting the door. "She'll be back," he said, confidently.


	2. Chapter 2

"So Harley's gone for good, huh?" asked Two-Face, as he and Joker sat at the bar in the illegal backroom of the Iceberg Lounge.

"Seems so!" said Joker, happily. "It's been a week! That's the longest the little brat has ever lasted without me, so I'm gonna assume that she's finally left me alone forever! And about time too – it only took her eight years of crimping my style," he said, attempting a gang gesture.

"You're far too white to pull that off," said Two-Face.

"I know," sighed Joker. "I'll be honest, Harv, I ain't very street. Shame, really. But you can't have everything."

"Is Harley staying with Pammie?" asked Two-Face.

"Don't really know, don't really care, Harvey," said Joker. "She's not my problem anymore. She can be Pammie's problem, or some other guy's problem. I couldn't care less. Hey, Pengers, how about another scotch over here?" he shouted.

"The bartender is right in front of you, Joker," retorted the Penguin, glaring at him.

"Oh right, sorry, Lloyd, didn't see you there," said Joker, smiling at the bartender. "Another scotch on the rocks, my good man. And here's a handsome tip for you," he said, handing over a one dollar bill.

"Gee…thanks," muttered the bartender, handing him the glass.

Joker sipped it thoughtfully. "I only wish I had known it was the real end at the time, Harvey," he said. "I would have done some things differently."

"Like what?" asked Two-Face.

"Well, I always wanted to have a musical montage with a break up," sighed Joker.

Two-Face stared at him. "…what?"

"Y'know, break up and then have like a song playing in the background as you celebrate your newfound freedom," explained Joker. "Go crazy living the bachelor lifestyle and all with musical accompaniment. You know Michael Booby?"

"Is that a person?"

"A singer, yeah. Michael Booby. Canadian guy."

"…do you mean Michael Bublé?"

"Yeah, that's what I said. Michael Booby. Anyway, he does this song that would have been perfect, about a guy who breaks up with his girlfriend, and he's real happy about it, and he's singing about how it's a beautiful day and how he can't stop smiling, which I thought would really work for me. And there's a line where he says even if it's starts raining, he ain't gonna start complaining, and I thought maybe I could do a kinda 'Singing in the Rain' bit where I'm dancing on a lamp post while liquid Joker toxin falls from the sky and poisons the people below. But I called Booby, and he said he wouldn't give me permission to use it, so I killed him," he finished, draining his glass.

Two-Face looked at him. "You killed Michael Bublé?" he asked.

"Yeah. World ain't gonna miss him, are they? And he did have a stupid name," retorted Joker.

"I guess," agreed Two-Face, sipping his drink. He was silent. "So are you gonna get a new one?" he asked at last.

"A new Canadian singer? Nah, I think they're mostly overrated…"

"No, I mean a new…henchgirl. Girlfriend. Whatever the hell Harley was," replied Two-Face.

"Can't I enjoy my bachelorhood for a week without people nagging me to move on?" demanded Joker. "Honestly, Harvey, you're worse than a woman! Why don't I just hire you for my new henchgirl?"

"I don't think I could fit into the outfit," retorted Two-Face.

Joker ordered another drink. "I guess it wouldn't be a bad idea," he sighed. "I mean, the laundry does need to be done. And the dishes. In fact, the whole warehouse could use a good cleaning. And I could stop coming to this dump to eat every night. The food is just terrible. Y'know, normal people don't like raw fish, Pengers, you get that, right?" he snapped as Penguin came to join them.

"It's called sushi, and it's a delicacy in Japan," snapped Penguin.

"Well, it's pretty disgusting if you ask me," retorted Joker. "And it means I can't ever bring Harley here. She hates fish."

"Well, it is my understanding that you won't be bringing Miss Quinn anywhere ever again," retorted Penguin. "I heard you two broke up for good."

"Yep, that's right!" said Joker cheerfully. "_It's a beautiful day and I can't stop myself from smiling – if we're drinking then I'm buying_…"

"Are you?" asked Two-Face, hopefully.

"No, it's that song, you moron," snapped Joker. "Nobody ever means anything they say in a song, you know that."

He sipped his drink. "I wonder how people go about finding new henchgirls," he said. "I mean, I went through all that work with Harley – breaking her mind and seducing her as my shrink and then getting her to bust me outta Arkham. There's gotta be an easier way."

"Why don't you just advertise in the newspaper?" asked Penguin, dryly.

"I guess I could do that," said Joker, nodding. "Oh, and I should spread the word around my fans on the internet. I need to start taking care of my fans."

"I don't…think you have any fans," said Two-Face, slowly.

"Sure I do! We all got fans, Harvey. Except Nygma, nobody likes Nygma. Oh, and those two nerds over there, nobody likes them. Heads up, Johnny!" shouted Joker, seizing a beer bottle and throwing it at Jonathan Crane's head, who was seated at the nearby table. He ducked just in time, and the bottle shattered on the table, splattering his dinner companion, Jervis Tetch, with beer. Joker laughed hysterically as Tetch calmly removed his hat and began shaking the beer off it.

"What is the matter with you, Joker?" demanded Crane, furiously.

"You want a list?" asked Joker, grinning. "Oh, but it's your lucky night, Johnny! Harley and I broke up for good, which means she's single now. So you should get over to Pammie's and see if you can get lucky on your lucky night," he chuckled. "I know you've always wanted to take Harley for a ride."

"I would never attempt to court a lady who is emotionally vulnerable from the termination of a long term relationship," muttered Crane.

"Then I guess you ain't ever gonna get any action, Johnny," chuckled Joker. "Cause seriously, vulnerable, desperate, and lonely women are the only kind of dames you got a shot with."

"Don't rise to the bait, Jonathan, that's just what he wants," muttered Tetch. "Let's just go home."

Crane took a deep breath and nodded, following Tetch from the restaurant. He turned back suddenly. "I am very sad for Harley, because I know she's desperately upset about all this," he hissed. "But personally I think the best thing that ever happened to her was getting out of an abusive relationship with the most horrible, disgusting, evil man it has ever been my misfortune to meet. And I hope someday you'll realize how precious the angel you let slip through your fingers was, and I hope you'll loathe yourself for ever letting her get away. Just as the rest of us loathe you already. Goodnight."

"Wow…that was harsh, and uncalled for," said Joker, surprised. "I dunno why Johnny's in such a bad mood – lack of sex, I guess. Can't take a joke," he sighed.

Joker stood up. "Well, I'd better hit the hay. Got a busy day tomorrow advertising for the new henchgirl. Then I guess I gotta get a shortlist and narrow 'em down and audition 'em..."

"Can I come to the auditions?" asked Two-Face. "You might want a second opinion."

"Sure," replied Joker, shrugging. "I'll let you know when they are. See ya later, Harvey."

Joker left the Iceberg Lounge and took out his cell phone, dialling a number. It rang, and then a voice on the other end said, "Hello?"

"Roc, it's me," said Joker. "I need you to be over early tomorrow and help me advertise for a new henchgirl. Also, I need you to show me how to use a computer. And the internet."

"O...K, boss," replied Rocco, slowly. "But I kinda had plans with Angela…"

"Well, bring her along," said Joker. "I could use a younger dame's help – they're good with technology. Harley could always…" he trailed off.

"Harley could always what?" asked Rocco, quietly.

"Nothing," retorted Joker. "She was a dumb blonde, and I'm glad she's gone. Good riddance to bad rubbish. I'll see you tomorrow. Bye."

Joker hung up and drove back to his hideout. He whistled happily to himself as he undressed, and then climbed into bed alone. "Plenty of space," he sighed, stretching out. "Plenty of…"

He stopped talking as his arm fell down on what had been Harley's pillow, and he heard a sound. He lifted it up to see a whoopie cushion hidden underneath it. For a moment, Joker felt a strange sensation, something completely new to him. Something that felt like a pang in his heart as he stared at the whoopie cushion. He had never missed anyone before, so he couldn't tell if that was the feeling, or if he just had heartburn from the terrible food at the Iceberg Lounge. He sighed, replacing the pillow.

"A change will be nice," he said firmly, rolling over. "I do love randomness and surprises and spontaneity. Bring on the girls."


	3. Chapter 3

"Thanks for your help setting up the catwalk, sweetheart. I'm sure you did a beauty pageant or two in your time, huh?" asked Joker, beaming at Rocco's daughter, Angela.

"Um…no," replied Angela. "I wasn't really the beauty pageant type. Did a lot of reading, usually."

"Ah. Nerdy. Nothing wrong with that, sweetheart, even nerdy dames have their uses," said Joker, clapping her on the back. "Harley was always a little..." He trailed off, clearing his throat. "So you're what, a librarian now?"

"I'm a neurologist at Gotham General," replied Angela.

"Right. So you do like drug tests on people's urine?" asked Joker.

"I study the brain, mostly," said Angela, slowly.

"Aw, good for you," said Joker, clapping her on the back again. "Where would any of us be without our brains?"

"Well, I do know a lot of people who seem to get along just fine without using them," replied Angela, smiling.

Joker smiled back. "That's a joke, sweetheart," he murmured. "And a good one. I like that in a dame. Y'know if you wanna audition for the henchgirl position yourself, we could have a father-daughter double act…"

"Thanks, Mr. Joker, that's very flattering, but I enjoy my job at Gotham General," interrupted Angela, hastily. "I need to get back actually, so…enjoy the auditions. See you later, Daddy," she said, hugging Rocco.

"Bye, sweetie," he said, kissing her.

"She's a good kid," said Joker, nodding after her. "You did a good job."

"It was her mother's doing, mostly," replied Rocco. "But she turned out all right despite that."

Joker laughed, and then checked his watch. "Right, well, we'd better get this party started," he said, clapping his hands. "Bring on the dames, right, Harv?" he asked, turning to Two-Face. "You got the list, Roc?"

"Yep. We're all set," said Rocco, sitting down beside the catwalk next to Joker and Two-Face. "Can we have the first girl, please?" he called.

A very pretty young woman stepped out onto the catwalk, smiling. Her face fell suddenly when she saw the Joker. "Oh," she said, slowly. "You…don't look a lot like your pictures online."

"Yeah, I've been told I'm taller in the flesh," said Joker, nodding.

"No, I mean…your hair's not long and unwashed," said the girl. "And your makeup's really clean…"

"Makeup? This ain't makeup, toots. I look like this 24/7," retorted Joker.

"Oh. Because online you got makeup on your face. And scars. How can you tell people how you got your scars if you don't have scars?"

"Look, sweetheart, I dunno what the hell you're talking about," retorted Joker.

"Can you say the line?" she asked.

"What line?" asked Joker, puzzled.

"Why so serious?" she retorted.

"What?"

"Never mind," the girl sighed, heading off the catwalk. "You're not the Joker I wanted."

Joker stared after her, and then shook his head. "I tell ya, Harv, some people are just plain nuts," he sighed. "Call in the next one, Roc."

A pretty blonde woman strode onto the catwalk, a woman both Joker and Two-Face recognized. "Sugar?" asked Joker, astonished.

It was indeed Peyton Riley, who held her arms behind her back. "Yeah," she retorted. "I got tired of working for the dummy. Thought I'd try my luck working for a real man," she murmured, grinning at Joker.

"Aw…that's real sweet, Sugar, but Scarface and I are buddies, and I wouldn't feel comfortable stealing his dame…" began Joker.

"You ain't scared of a dummy are ya, Joker?" demanded Sugar.

"No, I…"

"But you should be, you dizzy blonde!" shouted a familiar voice, as Scarface suddenly appeared from behind Sugar's back. "Whaddya mean trying to dump me for the clown?! I'll slap your pretty face silly for this, ya ungrateful dame!"

"Maybe Joker would treat me like a real woman instead of just some stupid doll!" shouted Sugar. "I have certain feminine needs, Scarface, which you just can't satisfy!"

"The hell I can't!" shouted Scarface. "We're going home right now, and we're gonna see what I can and can't satisfy, you useless broad!"

Sugar and Scarface kept arguing as they left the catwalk. Joker, Two-Face, and Rocco all shared a look. "Well, that was disturbing on multiple levels…" muttered Two-Face.

"Moving right along, Roc," said Joker, tapping the list.

"Next, please!" called Rocco.

A woman emerged onto the catwalk, and the jaws of all three men in the room dropped. She was tall and slim, but not too tall, and not too slim, with a perfect, hourglass figure, and a very full, prominent bust. Her hair was long and blonde, and it shimmered in the lights from the room. Her face was oval and pale, but not too pale, and her eyes were a deep, bright blue. They shone with passion and intelligence, and her lips were red and full as she smiled the most beautiful smile any of them had ever seen.

"Hi," she whispered, in a soft voice like gentle music.

"H…hi," stammered Joker. "What's your name, sweetheart?"

"Mary Sue," she murmured, beaming.

"I'm gonna call you Fake Harley," said Joker. "What are you good at, Fake Harley?"

"Everything," she replied.

"I like your confidence," chuckled Joker. "Can you iron, sweets?"

"I can do anything you want, Mr. Joker," she murmured. "And I'm real good at everything I do," she breathed, pulling out a gun and holding it close to her chest. She pulled the trigger and a _Bang _flag popped out.

"Ok, my mind's made up," said Joker, standing up and beaming. "We've found our Fake Harley."

"Um…J…you sure you don't wanna take a look at the others?" asked Two-Face, slowly. "I could look after Miss Sue while you're watching the other auditions…"

"Get your own henchgirl, Harvey," snapped Joker. "This one's mine. Roc, give her the outfit and let her try it on," he said.

Fake Harley smiled at them as she took Harley's costume and left the room. "Wow, she's hot!" gasped Two-Face.

"Oh yeah," agreed Joker. "Very…perky. She's gonna fill out that suit a lot better than Harley did, if you get what I'm saying," he chuckled.

"Should I send the others away, boss?" asked Rocco.

"Aw, no, Roc, I'll do it," said Joker. "They're my fans, so I should take care of 'em."

He whistled happily as he picked up a machine gun and went around behind the catwalk. Two-Face and Rocco suddenly heard firing and a lot of screaming.

"J, what the hell are you doing?" demanded Two-Face, as he rushed over to see Joker among a bunch of dead bodies.

"Taking care of my fans, Harvey," retorted Joker, beaming.

They heard a giggle, and turned to see Fake Harley standing behind them, in Harley's costume, beaming adoringly at Joker and the carnage that surrounded him. "Aw, Mr. J, you're such a naughty boy," she purred.

"Yeah," gasped Joker, gazing at her. "Think I might need a spanking, baby."

She giggled again. "J, how about she's your henchgirl on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and mine on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays?" asked Two-Face.

"I ain't sharing her, Harvey," snapped Joker. "Fake Harley, you wanna be my and Harvey's henchwench, or just mine?" he asked, turning to her.

"Just yours, Mr. J," she murmured, grinning.

"There. You heard the lady," snapped Joker. "Now beat it, Harv. And you too, Rocco. Fake Harley and me wanna get to know each other a little," he chuckled.

Two-Face grumbled as he headed for the door. "Enjoy your new henchgirl," he muttered.

"Oh, I will!" chuckled Joker. He kept smiling until the door shut, and then his smile dropped. "Ok, toots, take this," he said, handing her the machine gun. "Go clean it, and then get rid of these bodies. I'll be in my study," he said, heading for the door.

"Um…Mr. J…" began Fake Harley.

"No, you call me sir," interrupted Joker. "Or boss. I've had enough of Mr. J to last me a lifetime."

"Ok…boss…I just had a couple questions," said Fake Harley.

He sighed heavily. "What?" he muttered, turning to her.

"Am I gonna be fulfilling…all the positions real Harley did?" she asked quietly.

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Joker.

She grinned, and then slowly unzipped her costume and pulled it off, to reveal a very skimpy lingerie ensemble. "I mean, I know I'm only a Fake Harley, but I still think I can give pretty good rides," she whispered, smiling at him.

He studied her, expressionless. "Nah, not in the mood, kid," he muttered, turning away. "Better get used to that. Got a lot on my mind. Ain't so interested in the body most of the time. Anyway, you probably wouldn't be into the whoopie cushion or anything, so…"

"I'll be into whatever you want," she murmured.

"Well, what I want is to be left alone," he retorted. "So do that, if you're so good at everything. Oh, and make a start on the laundry once you got the corpses outta here. Thanks, dollface."

He entered his study and shut the door, going over to his desk. "If she's so keen to be useful, maybe I had better take her for a test drive with the Bat," he murmured, picking up a plan. He grinned. "And I got just the scheme for it!"


	4. Chapter 4

"You sure you're gonna be ok at this job tonight, Harley?" asked Poison Ivy, looking at her friend in concern. "I can ask Selina to come if you…"

"No, it's ok, Red," said Harley, forcing a smile. "Work is gonna be just the thing to get my mind off my troubles."

Ivy nodded, but was far from covinced. When Harley had shown up at her door covered in pie filling and sobbing her heart out, Ivy automatically and correctly assumed that something had gone wrong between her and the clown again. She had listened to it all as she had a thousand times before, she had said the exact same comforting things she had always said, and Harley had vowed never to return to the Joker, as she always did. Ivy wasn't optimistic about her keeping her resolution, but it had been a week now, so longer than she usually lasted. It must have been some fight. She wondered if Harley had got covered in pie before or after it.

Ivy shook her head to clear her thoughts as they both got out of the car. "Well, if you're sure, Harley. It's just kinda important that you don't lose it during the middle of this or anything in case Batman shows up…"

"Can we not mention him, Red?" interrupted Harley. "If he does show up, he's gonna wish he hadn't, all right? I ain't in the mood to see the guy…Mr. J prefers to me…" she began, tears filling her eyes again.

"Harley, really, I can call Selina…" said Ivy, reaching for her phone.

"No, please, Red, let me do this," said Harley, wiping her eyes. "I really wanna."

Ivy sighed. "I'm going to regret this," she muttered, putting away her phone as they both entered the museum.

Ivy led Harley over to a case full of amber. "The museum's recently acquired a collection of extinct plants which have been trapped in amber," she murmured, picking the lock on the case. "If I can extract some of the DNA, it's possible that I might be able to bring these types of vegetation back."

"You mean like in _Jurassic Park_?" asked Harley. "Cause I've seen that movie, and it didn't work out so good for them."

Ivy was about to try to explain to Harley the rather large distinction between a plant and a dinosaur, when they suddenly heard a bang from upstairs. "Jesus, Roc, watch where you're going, will ya?" snapped a familiar voice. "You wanna bring the Bat down on us?"

"Mr. J!" breathed Harley, her eyes lighting up. She was about to race off toward the sound of the voice when Ivy caught her arm.

"Wait a second, Harley, I thought you never wanted to see him again after that fight you had!" she said.

"Oh…yeah…about that, Red…" stammered Harley. "I mean…it was probably my fault…I'll apologize for fighting, and then I'm sure he'll apologize, and everything will be ok between us again, so don't you worry!"

"Harley…Harley, wait!" hissed Ivy as Harley broke away from her and ran off. Ivy sighed. "So much for never going back to him," she muttered.

Harley dashed up the stairs, her heart pounding in excitement and her stomach churning with butterflies. She always felt this way when she was going to see Mr. J again after a long absence. It was the anticipation of ultimate happiness, which is what she felt when she was near him. "I'm sorry, it was all my fault, you were right, I love you, puddin'," she murmured, rehearsing her apology as she ran. She reached the top of the stairs and turned the corner. "Mr…" she began, but froze suddenly.

The Joker was taking a painting off a wall, and holding the other end was an incredibly attractive woman wearing Harley's costume. Harley stared at her in astonishment as Joker looked up in surprise. "Harley…" he stammered. "What are you doing here?"

"Who is she?" gasped Harley, pointing.

"Oh. She's…uh…wow, this is awkward," said Joker. He put down the painting and then gestured at the girl. "Harley, meet…Fake Harley."

"Fake Harley?" repeated Harley, stunned.

"Pleased to meetcha," said Fake Harley, in an imitation of Harley's accent, holding out her hand to her.

"Just like the real thing, huh?" chuckled Joker, draping an arm around her. "Only…y'know…hotter."

Harley gazed at him, heartbroken. "You…replaced me?" she gasped.

"I prefer the term upgraded, pooh," he said, nodding. "See, if it were you pulling this job with me, you'd probably have dropped the painting, or tripped over it, or broken it somehow, and the Bat would be on us and dragging us back to Arkham as we speak. But Fake Harley was able to jump over the wall with her fantastic gymnast skills, hack into the security system with her expert computer skills and turn off the security cameras in the art exhibit. And she even counterfeited this painting that we're stealing with her incredible talent at art. Nobody will even be able to tell it's a fake. And she got the joke – we're replacing a real clown painting with a fake one. A fake Harlequin!" he exclaimed, laughing. "Get it?"

Harley just stared at him, crying silent tears. She opened her mouth to speak when suddenly an alarm sounded throughout the building. "God dammit, Roc, I told you…" began Joker, rounding on his henchman.

"It's not me, boss, the alarm's coming from downstairs," interrupted Rocco.

"Red!" cried Harley, as Ivy raced up the stairs, clutching the amber tightly.

"Yeah, yeah, it was me, didn't realize they were individually alarmed, let's go," she snapped, grabbing Harley's hand. She suddenly noticed Fake Harley and stared at her, stunned. "What the hell…"

A black shape suddenly crashed through the roof, sending glass shattering everywhere. Even Batman couldn't conceal his surprise as he landed on the ground to see Joker, Ivy, and what appeared to be two Harleys.

"What…" he began, but Fake Harley leapt forward suddenly, smashing her arm down on the back of his neck. Batman hissed in pain, falling to his knees, as Fake Harley continued to beat him.

"Expert in jiu jitsu as well, apparently," murmured Joker, as he watched Batman futiley trying to block her blows.

Fake Harley pulled out a gun. "Want me to finish him off, boss?" she asked.

"Hell, no!" shouted Joker, grabbing the gun away from her. "What the hell is your problem, kid, you stupid or something?! You can't kill him! He's my nemesis, for God's sake! Jesus, you really don't get it, do you?!"

In the pause, Batman had leapt to his feet, knocking Fake Harley back and knocking Joker to the ground. "Come on!" shouted Ivy, grabbing Harley's hand and racing from the room. Or at least, that was the intention. Harley accidentally knocked against a statue, which fell to the ground, pinning her and Ivy under it.

Meanwhile, Fake Harley kicked Batman hard in the face, knocking him off Joker. "I'll get us outta here, boss," she muttered, grabbing his hand and dragging him out of the room with Rocco following. Once they had left the exhibit, Fake Harley threw a grenade inside, which exploded, covering the doorway in rubble. They dashed off into Joker's car and disappeared into the night.

Batman struggled to his feet, coughing, as the smoke cleared. "Little help, Bats?" asked Ivy, trying to squeeze out from under the statue. Batman lifted it off, and immediately handcuffed Ivy. He expected some sort of resistance from Harley, but she just lay there, crying silently. He led them both to the Batmobile and drove to Arkham. Harley didn't say a word the whole ride, and she didn't say a word after she was confined in her cell – she just sat on her bed with her knees curled up to her chest, endless tears streaming down her cheeks.


	5. Chapter 5

"Harley? Baby? You wanna try to eat something?" asked Ivy, knocking gently on the door to her cell. "I brought you some food I saved for you at dinner, minus the plants…"

"No thanks, Red," murmured Harley, in a voice barely above a whisper. "I'm not very hungry."

Ivy pushed open the door to see Harley curled up on her bed, her eyes red and puffy from crying. "Baby, it's ok," said Ivy gently, sitting down next to her and stroking her hair back. "Now, c'mon. You gotta eat something. You don't wanna starve yourself…"

"I don't really care what happens to me, Red," murmured Harley, beginning to cry again. "Not anymore."

"Ok, but I do, Harley," replied Ivy, firmly. Harley didn't respond, just continued to cry. "Talk to me, baby," whispered Ivy. "Please, Harley. Tell me what's wrong."

"You know what's wrong," whispered Harley.

"Baby, I've told you for years he's no good for you…"

"I just…never thought he could do something like this, Red," whispered Harley. "I never thought he could be that heartless."

"Um…he's a pretty heartless guy, Harley, being a homicidal maniac and all…" began Ivy, gently.

"He was different with me," whispered Harley. "I know you won't believe this, Red, but he could be really sweet when he wanted to be. And he was. Y'know, that's why I loved him. Because however horrible and cruel he was to everyone else, and however horribly he treated me sometimes, and no matter how badly we fought, he would always stop fighting and be sweet to me again. I thought I was special to him. And I…felt pretty special when I was around him. He made me feel special. He made me feel like I was the only dame in the world who mattered to him. I guess it was just until a better girl came along."

"Harley, she's not better than you…" began Ivy.

"She is, Red," interrupted Harley. "You saw her. She's perfect. She's good at everything. She great at her job – you saw her kick the crap outta the Bat. I could never do that. And she's just beautiful. Mr. J deserves a gal like that. Perfect. Flawless. Gorgeous. Just like he is," she whispered, clasping something tighter to her chest. It was a picture of the Joker.

"I…I still love him, Red," she whispered, tears flowing down her cheeks. "He's stabbed me in the heart, he's replaced me, but I still love him. I'd forgive him for all that and come back in an instant if he wanted me to. But he won't want me to, not while she's around. And I should just be happy that he's happy. I dunno what's wrong with me."

"What's wrong is that you're willing to forgive him after he's betrayed you like this," retorted Ivy. "Fighting is one thing, Harley. I mean, all couples have their tiffs, although they're usually not as dramatic as yours. But he's replaced you with another woman. He's basically said he couldn't care less about you or your feelings."

"He's replaced me with another Harley, Red," murmured Harley. "Not just any woman. That means he does still love some part of me…"

"Yeah, the part that was his joke," interrupted Ivy. "The part that he created. Harley Quinn. He loves that gag, but he doesn't love you. That's what this proves, Harley. That it doesn't matter who the girl in the costume is. That he never cared about you, real you, at all. The only thing he cared about was your fake persona, as an accessory to his. A persona that he invented. He's only ever cared about himself."

"I…guess," stammered Harley, as the tears flowed silently down her cheeks. She was silent for a long time. "Red, can I tell you something?" she whispered.

"Anything, baby, you know that," murmured Ivy.

"Well, y'know how Mr. J and I met here, and how I was his shrink, and how he seduced me and everything?"

"Yeah."

Harley wiped her eyes. "I ain't never told anyone this," she murmured. "But after we busted out, I was scared. I was scared that…that maybe Mr. J had just used me to escape from Arkham. That maybe he'd…had an affair with me just so I'd help him break out. See, it's a thing you read in his file, Red. A lotta the doctors thought he was pretty apathetic towards sex, that he replaced his need for…for intimacy with violence and mayhem and destruction. And I thought it was kinda weird that he would be interested in me physically at all, because of what I'd read. But I liked that he was. So anyway, after we busted out, I was on my own for a couple nights. The longest couple of nights of my life. I just lay awake, hoping that he'd come see me, and disappointed when he didn't. Terrified that I'd made a mistake and fallen in love with a guy who had just…used me, and didn't care about me, and might just kill me now that I wasn't useful to him anymore. And then on the third night, he…opened the door to my bedroom. And he stood there, in the light from the hall, holding a gun. And I was terrified that he was gonna shoot me, that this was it. I had my eyes squeezed shut as I heard him approach me, but the shot didn't come. I opened my eyes to see him staring at me. 'You got real pretty eyes,' he whispered, putting down the gun. 'I wanted to see 'em full of fear. And pain. That'll make 'em beautiful.' And he hit me, Red. Hard. I was terrified, but I didn't know what else to do, so I just looked back at him, trying to hold back my tears. And there was something in his own eyes then, something I hadn't seen before. 'Beautiful,' he whispered. 'Oh God, you're beautiful.' And he kissed me, Red. I can't describe how…insane a kiss it was. It was passionate and tender and desperate and calm and hateful and loving and every violent emotion in the world, all rolled into one. And I knew in that moment that I needed that for the rest of my life. And I thought he was telling me, with that kiss, that he needed me for the rest of his life. See, if he really did just care about the violence, he could have shot me then. Or tortured me or mutilated me or just kept hitting me. But he didn't. He kissed me. And then we…made love. The Joker made love with me, Red. The Joker had never done that before. The Joker had killed a lotta people, destroyed lives, caused violence and misery and chaos, all for his own amusement. But that night he made love with me. It was unheard of. And I always thought that any gal who the Joker would choose to make love with over hurting had to be pretty special to him. But…but I guess she wasn't, in the end."

Ivy squeezed her hand tightly. "Harley, I…"

"No, Red, there's nothing you can say," she whispered. "I just appreciate you listening. But I kinda wanna be on my own now, so if you could just…"

Ivy nodded, heading for the door. "Thanks for the food too," whispered Harley.

"Try to eat some of it, will you, baby?" murmured Ivy.

"I will," replied Harley, nodding. Ivy shut the door to her cell behind her. Harley glanced at the food but ignored it, rolling over on her bed and wiping away tears as she clasped the Joker's picture tightly against her heart.


	6. Chapter 6

"How do you like your duck a l'orange, boss?" asked Fake Harley.

"Yeah, it's…not bad, for something with a French name," replied Joker, slowly. "You go to cooking school?"

"Yeah, I'm a fully qualified chef," said Fake Harley, nodding.

"Of course you are," sighed Joker, reaching for the salt.

"Doesn't it taste all right?" asked Fake Harley, nodding at the salt shaker.

"Oh yeah, just force of habit," he said. "You can't eat anything Harley cooks unless you cover it in salt. At least then it tastes like salt rather than garbage."

"Well, boss, I'm your Harley now, so you don't have to do that anymore," said Fake Harley, taking the salt shaker away from him. Joker grabbed it back, glaring at her.

"Don't tell me what I have to do," he muttered. "I'll put salt on my dinner if I wanna, and I do wanna, so just let me do that and mind your own business."

"Sorry, puddin'…" began Fake Harley.

"No!" shouted Joker, slamming the salt shaker down suddenly. "No puddin', and no Mr. J! I don't wanna hear those ever again! I don't wanna be reminded of…that. You're not Harley – you're Fake Harley, Improved Harley, and one of your improvements is not calling me stupid nicknames, ya got that?!"

"Yes, boss," said Fake Harley. She watched him eat and then asked, "You wanna drink? I can mix you up a cocktail – I'm also a qualified mixologist…"

"No," interrupted Joker. "I ain't a cocktail fan. My drinks should never be the same color as my wardrobe. Just fix me a scotch."

Fake Harley obeyed, bringing the glass over to Joker. "Y'know, boss, you seem awfully tense," she murmured, massaging his shoulders gently. "Maybe your Harley can find a way to loosen you up…"

"Maybe you should stop touching me before I slap you silly," interrupted Joker.

Fake Harley shrugged, sitting back down. "What? Why did you stop?" demanded Joker.

"Because…you just asked me to, boss…" stammered Fake Harley.

"And you ain't supposed to do what I ask you when it involves physical affection!" shouted Joker. "Real Harley would never give up on trying to get me excited just because I threatened her! She wouldn't give up even after I beat her! If anything, it'd put her more in the mood!"

"Oh. Sorry, boss," said Fake Harley, standing up again and resuming her massage.

"Jesus Christ, kid, you…oh, wow!" he gasped suddenly. "Oooh, let me guess - you're a qualified masseuse."

"Uh huh," she whispered. "I'm real good with my hands, boss. Want me to show you how good?" she murmured, reaching down to touch him.

"No, that's ok," he said, standing up suddenly. "Anyway, I ain't in the best of moods with you right now, kid."

"Why? What have I done?" asked Fake Harley, surprised.

"You don't need to ask me that – you know," he retorted.

"Uh...no, I don't," stammered Fake Harley. "I've never done anything wrong in my life…"

"Well, you did today!" snapped Joker, rounding on her. "You tried to kill the Bat! You don't kill the Bat! Nobody kills the Bat but me! Harley had to get that knocked though her thick skull by being shoved outta a window! You tell me why I shouldn't do the same to you!"

"Sorry, boss, I was just doing my job…" began Fake Harley.

"No, your job is not to kill the Bat," he interrupted. "Your job is to assist me in committing crimes and making jokes…"

"Which I would be doing, if I killed Batman," reasoned Fake Harley.

"Wrong. Without Batman, there is no point to committing crimes or making jokes," snapped Joker. "There is no punchline to them, because the punchline is always Batman. What's the punchline?"

"Batman," replied Fake Harley.

"Good. Well, now that you understand that, I'm gonna hit the sack," said Joker, heading for the door.

"Shouldn't I come with you?" she asked. "To bed, I mean. Harley shared your bed, and I'm Fake Harley…gotta continue the joke, huh, boss?"

Joker sighed. "I guess. All right, c'mon."

"That's Harley's side," he said, gesturing to the bed. "Stay on her side, and don't even think about spreading out onto my side, or I'll cut off your limbs, you got that?"

"Yes, boss," replied Fake Harley.

"Ok. Just gonna go get changed," said Joker, picking up his pajamas and heading for the bathroom. When he emerged, Fake Harley was already tucked into bed with the covers pulled over her.

Joker lay down on his own side and turned off the lamp.

"No goodnight kiss?" she asked in disappointment.

"I would never give Harley a goodnight kiss," retorted Joker. "Night, Fake Harley."

"Boss, turn the lamp back on," she murmured.

"Why?" he demanded.

"I got something you might wanna see," she whispered.

He sighed, flicking the lamp back on and rolling over. "All right, what…"

But his jaw dropped to see that Fake Harley had pulled aside the covers, and that she wasn't wearing any pajamas. She wasn't wearing anything. "Like what you see?" she whispered. "You can help yourself, boss. It's all yours. And I guess you can't really be qualified in sex, but all my past lovers have said I'm really, really good at it."

"Bet you are," murmured Joker. "Bet you're real good at kissing too."

"Mmm, try me," she whispered.

He brought his mouth to hers and kissed her tenderly. "Yeah, you are," he whispered when he drew away at last. He smiled, and then struck her violently across the face. "Harley is crap at kissing!" he shouted.

"…What?" gasped Fake Harley, stunned, as Joker climbed furiously out of bed.

"She's also crap at sex!" he shouted. "Just like she's crap at everything! See, this is the thing you don't understand, toots! This is why you can never replace Harley! Oh, you may look good in a tight catsuit, but Harley's more than that! Harley is stupid, but not stupid enough! She's clumsy and clingy and needy and utterly incompetant! She's a terrible cook, she's screwed up my plans more times than I can count, she's a crazy, worthless, pathetic little thorn in my side! You ain't none of those things! So I'm sorry, sweetheart, but this just isn't working out for me. You can't replace Harley – I guess nobody really can, because nobody else on earth could be that utterly useless! I guess she's one of a kind, and I guess I'm stuck with her, so I might as well just make the best of it! You're fired, sweetheart. Be outta here by tomorrow morning. I'm on the couch tonight," he snapped, slamming the door to the bedroom and heading for the living room.

"God, women," he muttered, lying down on the sofa. "Bunch of sex-crazed, ravenous hyenas. They're all the same. Except Harley, that useless brat. When she gets her worthless ass back here, I'm gonna beat her senseless. That'll show her how much I really care," he chuckled, rolling over and falling asleep.


	7. Chapter 7

"So where's the new henchgirl?" asked Two-Face, looking around Joker's hideout.

"Gone," retorted Joker, bringing out two beers and handing one to Two-Face.

"Gone?" repeated Two-Face. "What do you mean gone?"

"I mean I fired her," said Joker. "She wasn't at all like Harley. It wasn't really working out for me."

Two-Face stared at him. "If you just wanted Harley back, why did you go through all the trouble of hiring a new henchgirl?" he asked.

"Seemed like a good idea at the time," said Joker, shrugging. "Plus I thought a change might be nice. Variety is the spice of life, you know. But this dame just did everything wrong. By which I mean she did everything right. Great little fighter, great cook, incredibly talented, not suitable at all."

"Surely…that's what you want in a henchgirl," said Two-Face, slowly. "Someone fairly competent."

Joker laughed. "Oh, Harvey, you're so naïve! If I wanted competent, don't you think I would hire some new henchmen, for a start? Oh…sorry, Roc, didn't see you were there," said Joker, as Rocco looked up from his newspaper, hurt.

"Gee, boss, we try our best…" he began.

"I know you do, Roc," said Joker. "And don't worry, I ain't upset. I can't have competent people serving me."

"Why not?" asked Two-Face.

Joker sighed heavily. "Roc, you saw Fake Harley the other day. How long did it take her to take out the Bat?"

"About thirty seconds," replied Rocco.

"And she could have shot him too, huh?" asked Joker. "His life coulda been over in thirty seconds."

"Yeah, I guess," agreed Rocco.

"See, that's why I can't have competent people working for me," said Joker. "For any of my schemes to actually succeed, Bats would have to die. And I can't let Bats die. Bats has to stay alive, and keep winning. While I have to keep losing. Because the day I win, the game ends. And I don't want to stop playing the game, Harvey, it's too much fun! You get that, right?"

"Sure…I guess," said Two-Face, slowly.

"Plus it's always nice to get yourself outta a bad mood by blaming your failure on your inferiors, and slapping them around some," said Joker, happily. "I mean, that's why Harley's the perfect henchgirl for me. She's really stupid and inept. I can feel real superior to her, and better than her, because I am."

"Are you saying this dame showed you up?" asked Two-Face.

"I'm saying I don't like people who are good at everything," retorted Joker. "They're boring. And you can't have fun by berating them and hurting them and telling them how crap they are, because they ain't."

"Ok. Well, if you don't want her, can I have her?" asked Two-Face.

"Don't try to copy me with the whole henchgirl thing, Harvey," retorted Joker, taking a drink. "It's really unoriginal. Anyway, I don't know where she went. She was gone when I woke up this morning, after I fired her last night for trying to have sex with me."

Two-Face stared at him. "You fired her…for trying to have sex with you?"

"Yeah," said Joker, nodding.

Two-Face stood up. "Jesus Christ, J, you really are crazy, ain't ya?!" he demanded, storming off. "I'm gonna go find her! She's what I call great help!"

He slammed the door and Joker shrugged, finishing his beer. "We better go get Harley, Roc," he said, standing up. "I guess she's still at Arkham."

"Got a way to bust her out, boss?" asked Rocco.

"There are about a million of 'em in Arkham – take your pick," retorted Joker, heading for the door. He was about to open it when someone knocked on it. It was a guy holding an envelope.

"You the Joker?" he snapped.

"Uh…yeah," said Joker, slowly. "But I get how you might not know that, it's not like my face is all over TV and the papers…"

"Yeah, funny guy," interrupted the man. "Look, some crazy dame asked me to deliver this to you," he said, handing the envelope to him.

"What crazy dame?" asked Joker, opening it and scanning the message.

"Some weirdo in a skintight black and red costume," he retorted.

"Really? You don't know who that is either?" asked Joker, annoyed. "Does the name Harley Quinn ring any bells, sport?"

"Oh, I know who Harley Quinn is," snapped the man. "A lotta of the guys I work with have a crush on her, and there are pictures of her around the office. But that wasn't who this dame was. She was wearing her costume, but she filled it out a lot better than the real Harley, if you know what I mean."

"Oh yeah," chuckled Joker. "Thanks, sport. Here's your tip," he said, holding out his hand. The man took it and screamed as an electric shock shot through him. Joker smiled as the corpse hit the ground, but his smile fell as he turned to face Rocco.

"Change of plans, Roc," he muttered. "We gotta be somewhere else as soon as possible."

"Where?" asked Rocco, puzzled.

"The Aquacade," retorted Joker, handing him the letter and storming out.

"The…what?" stammered Rocco, reading the letter. It made no sense to him:

_Puddin', _

_ You wanted Harley, you got her. I'm gonna be the best Harley ever. And just like Harley, I'm gonna give a certain Bat Freak the Death of a Hundred Smiles, unless you arrive in time to push me outta a window. Either way, Harley's gonna win this time. Hurry, puddin'. Batsy's pretty sick of hanging around, and just dying to see you. _

_ - Harley Quinn (the one and only) _


	8. Chapter 8

"When you get inside, Roc, protect the Bat," muttered Joker as he sped through the streets of Gotham. "I'll take care of Fake Harley."

"Maybe I should just…release the Bat, boss," said Rocco, slowly. "I mean, he'd probably be useful in a fight against this dame…"

"You saying I can't take her?" demanded Joker angrily. "Is that what you're implying? That Fake Harley will beat me in a fight?"

"Uh…no," stammered Rocco. "No, of course not, boss. It's just…I mean, she did take out the Bat and everything…"

"So? I'm a lot better fighter than Batboy," retorted Joker. "He can't even beat me in a fair fight – always has to cheat and use his gadgets."

"And he still lost," said Rocco. "I mean, if he couldn't beat this gal by cheating, boss, why do you think you'd have a better chance fighting fair?"

"Didn't say I was gonna fight fair, Roc," replied Joker. "I always fight dirty. Everyone knows that. Fake Harley will never see it coming."

Rocco looked at him and then sighed. "Sure, boss," he murmured. "Mind if I make a quick phone call?"

"Knock yourself out," said Joker. "Speaking of which…"

He turned the car sharply, knocking into a passing pedestrian, and laughing hysterically as they drove off. Rocco sighed again, and then dialled a number. "Hi, sweetie, it's Daddy. I'm fine. No, that's just the boss hitting another pedestrian. Yeah. Look, can you do me a favor?"

…

The door to Harley's cell creaked open and she curled up tighter on her bed, squeezing her eyes shut as she was blinded by the sudden light. "You'll have to come with us, Miss Quinn," said one of the guards.

Harley didn't respond. She hadn't moved for days and she had no intention of doing so now. She just kept her eyes squeezed shut and the Joker's picture clutched tightly to her heart.

"Bring her," snapped the guard, as two more men entered the cell, lifting Harley to her feet. They dragged her down the hall and into a room, forcing her into a chair and leaving her.

Harley opened her eyes slowly, letting them adjust to the light. "Harley?" said a voice. "Can you hear me?"

Harley's eyes focused on a young woman seated in front of her, pretty and tanned, and dressed in a lab coat. She smiled at her. "Hi, Harley, it's nice to meet you," she said. "I've been sent from Gotham General to perform a quick scan of your brain, and to see if there is any abnormality which will explain your current depression."

Harley forced a smile. "You'll be scanning the wrong organ, Doc," she whispered faintly. "Ain't nothing wrong with my brain. Just my heart."

She held the picture of the Joker tightly, and gazed down at it, tears forming in her eyes again.

"Well, I'm a neurologist, so the brain's my specialty," replied the woman. "But what's wrong with your heart?"

"It's broken," murmured Harley. "And it can't really be fixed this time. Probably won't ever work again."

The woman looked down at the picture of the Joker. "This the guy who broke it?" she asked gently.

"Yeah. Ain't he handsome?" whispered Harley. "He…he's cheated on me, Doc. He's replaced with another woman, but I still love him. Am I an idiot or what?"

The woman smiled. "No," she murmured. "You're not an idiot, Harley. You're right, there's nothing wrong with your brain. And I'm not really here to scan it. That was just an excuse so they'd let me in. Maybe I should introduce myself. Dr. Angela Demarco," she said, holding out her hand.

Harley stared at her, the slow realization sinking in. "You're…you're Rocco's kid," she stammered.

"Yeah," said Angela, nodding. "Daddy sent me to get you outta here. He says the Joker's gonna need your help, and to hurry as soon as you can to some place called the Aquacade. Does that ring any bells?"

"Yeah," whispered Harley, nodding. "Quite a few. It was where Mr. J pushed me outta a window because I tried to kill the Bat so puddin' and me could be together forever. Should have seen he was no good then, really. Should have left him."

"Why didn't you?" asked Angela.

Harley shrugged. "Simple. I love him."

Angela smiled at her. "Y'know…if it helps…Daddy said Joker fired the new henchgirl."

Harley gazed at her. "He...what?" she gasped.

"He fired her," repeated Angela. "The way Daddy explained it was really confusing, something about her being too competent and the Joker liking his help to be more inept? It didn't make a lotta sense to me, but I guess nothing the Joker does will to most people. But apparently the problem was she wasn't enough like you to make him happy."

"I…I don't understand," stammered Harley. "He wanted her to be…like me? But he's always yelling at me and insulting me and hurting me…"

"And I guess he missed doing those things to the new henchgirl," replied Angela. "Maybe that's the only way he knows how to express his feelings. Or maybe he needs you in order to have those feelings. That's only speculation, but Daddy said the fact is the Joker fired the new henchgirl after she tried to have sex with him."

"Tried?" repeated Harley. Her eyes lit up with a sudden hope. "Then they didn't…he didn't…he didn't cheat on me after all."

"No," agreed Angela. "But he did fight with you, insult you, and replace you with another woman."

"Oh, don't worry, Angela, I ain't forgiven him everything," said Harley, nodding. "I'm still gonna beat him into a pulp for that. But don't you see what this means? It means…he loves me. Puddin' does love me after all."

She beamed, leaping to her feet. "And he needs my help! How are we getting outta here?"

Angela handed her a set of keys. "I am going to go examine your file in preparation for the scan, carelessly leaving the door unlocked. You are going to make a break for it, and steal the blue BMW next to the handicap space, using those keys you swiped from me during our initial examination. And when this is all over, you can give my car back to Daddy to return to me."

"Oh yeah, I wasn't gonna steal it or anything," replied Harley. "I mean, a BMW is pretty fancy, but blue ain't really my color, Angela. And I wouldn't dream of stealing from someone who helped me as much as you have. I owe you one."

"No, you don't," said Angela, smiling. "It was a pleasure to help my Daddy. He's very fond of you, you know. Both of you, actually. He told me that he always thought you deserved better than the Joker, but after seeing how miserable Joker was with another dame, he thinks maybe you do deserve each other after all. You make him happy. And what's the Joker without his smile?"

"Not funny," murmured Harley. "Not happy. Just like I ain't without him. You're right, Angela, we do deserve each other. We need each other. And if puddin' needs me now, I ain't gonna waste another second getting to him."

Angela pressed her hand. "Good luck," she whispered, leaving the room and shutting the door behind her.


	9. Chapter 9

"Fake Harley!" shouted Joker, slamming open the doors to the Aquacade to see Batman hanging upside down over a tank of piranhas, with Fake Harley standing by the lever to lower him in.

"What took you so long, puddin'?" she asked, grinning. "I was just about to let Batsy swim with the fishes. He was gonna become a water bat."

"That…doesn't even make any sense," said Joker, slowly.

"Doesn't it, puddin'?" asked Fake Harley, cocking her head. "I dunno, y'see, I'm just a dumb blonde. And I can't tell jokes, can I? Because I'm Harley Quinn and I'm not funny. I'm a pathetic failure, just like you want me to be."

"You…"

"I've never failed at anything in my life until I failed to please you," interrupted Fake Harley, suddenly furious. "I'm perfect. But if you don't want perfection, puddin', then I am going to be your perfect failure. I will not fail at failing, do you understand me?!"

"What…" began Joker, but Fake Harley suddenly leapt across the room, kicking Rocco, who was trying to sneak up on Batman, and knocking him into a wall, rendering him unconscious.

"Oh…wow," stammered Joker. Then his jaw tightened in resolution as he reached into his jacket pocket. "Don't worry, Batsy, I got this."

"Joker, try not to do anything…" began Batman. "…stupid," he finished, as Joker pulled a Joker fish out of his pocket.

He looked at it a moment in puzzlement. "I dunno why I brought this," he muttered. "You panic and you just grab everything…this is what I meant to pull out," he said, removing his gun from his other jacket pocket. "Don't move, toots, or I'll…"

Fake Harley was back across the room in an instant, slamming her arm onto his wrist and disarming him. Then she punched him in the face, and the chest, and the stomach, hitting him repeatedly. He tried to retaliate, but she was too quick, knocking him to the ground suddenly. "Some joke, huh, puddin'?!" she shrieked. "I guess it's about time Harley got payback and kicked your ass for once, huh, Mr. J?"

"You're not Harley!" hissed Joker, glaring up at her as she prepared to punch him again.

She fell to the ground suddenly as a loud crash resounded through the room. "No," snapped real Harley, standing over her with her hammer raised. "But I am."

"Harley?" gasped Joker.

"The one and only," she replied, smiling at him.

Fake Harley was on her feet in an instant, kicking Joker back suddenly so he hit the wall. Then she turned to attack real Harley, her face twisted in fury.

"I am not going to fail!" she shrieked. "I am perfect! I'm a better Harley than you ever thought about being!"

Fake Harley struck real Harley, who fell back. Harley tried to defend herself with her hammer, but Fake Harley was too quick. She knocked her back again, and then seized her hammer. "I am going to do what Mr. J should have done a long time ago," she hissed. "And beat your brains out. He deserves so much better than a pathetic little failure like you!"

Harley shut her eyes, cringing. But the blow never came. She opened her eyes to see the Joker standing in front of her, fighting with Fake Harley over the hammer. "Nobody else hurts my Harley," he hissed.

He kicked Fake Harley back, knocking her to the ground. "Harley, get the gun!" he shouted at real Harley.

She struggled to her feet and raced across the room, but so did Fake Harley. Fake Harley reached the gun before she did, and backflipped onto the top of the piranha tank.

"I will be Harley Quinn!" she shrieked, pointing the gun at Batman. "Or I will kill the Bat! Take your pick!"

"Wow, she really is crazy," said Joker. "I like that in a dame."

Harley glared at him. "But she's still too competent," he added, hastily. "And nobody out-crazies me."

"Make your choice, puddin'!" demanded Fake Harley, cocking the gun.

Real Harley looked at Joker. "You gonna choose him or me, puddin'?" she asked, smiling gently. "You gotta choose one."

Joker shook his head slowly. "No. I'm choosing both."

He seized her by the shoulders. "Harley, you gotta not screw this up, ok?"

"What, puddin'?" she asked.

"You gotta jump over that fish tank," he said, nodding at it. "And grab onto Bats, and swing him outta harm's way."

Harley stared at him. "But…but if I miss, puddin', I'll land in the water. With the piranhas. You know how I feel about fish and…and they'll strip the flesh from my bones in seconds…"

"So you gotta not miss, pooh," he whispered.

She bit her lip. "I…I'm not sure I won't, Mr. J…"

"Harley, listen to me," he whispered. "You gotta do it right, for once. You're the only one who can do it. I'm depending on you. Don't let me down."

Harley nodded slowly. "Ok…Mr. J," she whispered. "I'll do it. For you."

She gazed at him. "And in case I don't…make it…I love you."

"Well, I won't love you if you fail," he snapped. "So don't do it, you useless waste of space."

She nodded, taking a deep breath. Then she ran toward the tank. She was about to leap up, when the Joker suddenly grabbed her leg. She shrieked, tripping and slamming into the glass of the tank, and making the whole thing shake violently. Fake Harley lost her balance and fell into the tank with a scream.

Harley heard frantic screaming and splashing, but the Joker had climbed on top of her and now held her head firmly down on the floor. "What's going on, puddin'?" she whispered.

"Nothing you need to see," he murmured. "It ain't gonna help with the fish phobia."

Harley was allowed up at last when the screaming stopped, to see that the tank had been dyed red. But there was no trace left of Fake Harley.

Harley shuddered, burying her face in Joker's chest. "Sorry you had to see that, Bats, but you gotta admit, she did deserve to die," said Joker, pulling Batman away from the tank and gently lowering him to the ground.

"Nobody deserves to die," muttered Batman. "Especially not like that."

"Why did you trip me, puddin'?" asked Harley as Joker untied Batman.

He shrugged. "I knew you wouldn't make the jump. You're too clumsy. You probably would have just taken Bats down with you. But after that big pep talk I gave you, Fake Harley wouldn't be expecting you to just trip and fall. She didn't really get how useless you actually are at stuff. That was the problem."

"Guess you learned your lesson about trying to replace me, huh?" asked Harley.

Joker shrugged again. "Well, when you come to depend on people being useless, and suddenly they're not, it's a pretty annoying thing." He smiled at her. "And I gotta admit, I'm kinda happy to see you."

Harley smiled back. "Welcome to the club," she murmured, reaching for her hammer.

She suddenly began beating him violently with it. "That's for trying to replace me, you ungrateful jerk!" she shrieked. "And that's for fighting with me, and for all that crap you said, and for breaking my heart, and for making me think you had cheated on me, and…"

"That's enough, Harley," snapped Batman, grabbing the hammer away from her.

"Hey, don't spoil the fun, Bats!" chuckled Joker, beaming through the cuts and bruises. "Things were just starting to get good!"

He held out his arms and Harley squeaked, rushing into them. "I love you, Mr. J," she whispered.

He kissed her tenderly. "You worthless little brat," he whispered, smiling at her. "What would I ever do without you?"

"Mmm…go crazy?" she asked, grinning.

He chuckled, kissing her again. "Already there, baby," he murmured, hugging her. "Already there."


	10. Chapter 10

"I can't decide if I hate them more when they're fighting, or when they've made up after a fight," said Poison Ivy to Two-Face, as they sat in the cafeteria of Arkham Asylum, watching Harley feeding Joker from her fork and cuddling him.

"I'm still mad at J for killing the henchgirl," muttered Two-Face. "That dame was hot. He could have at least offered her to me."

"A woman is not just a piece of meat that you pass around from man to man," snapped Ivy. "She obviously had some sort of deep rooted psychological issues that made her obsessed with J."

"Yeah. Lotta that going around," commented Two-Face, watching as Harley ruffled Joker's hair, cooing. "Wonder what he's got that I haven't."

"Try a whole face, for a start," retorted Ivy.

"Screw you, Pammie!" he snapped.

She stood up, about to storm off, when he seized her arm. "Um…that was also a question," he said.

She glared at him, and then slapped him hard across the face.

"Is that a no?" he asked.

"Eight o'clock in the janitor's closet," she muttered, storming off.

"Oh, I meant to say, puddin', we got a letter from Angela," said Harley, taking a piece of paper out of her pocket. "She says thanks for making Batman return her car before dropping us off at Arkham. And she says she's looking after Rocco while he's in the hospital with minor injuries, so that's nice that they get to spend some time together. He sends his love to both of us, and wishes us a happy anniversary for tonight."

"Thought you already had your anniversary," commented Two-Face. "Thought that was why you broke up."

"Yeah, and what kinda way is that to spend your anniversary?" said Harley. "It was a pretty crap day really, so we thought we'd just redo it. And puddin' has something much more romantic planned for tonight, doncha, puddin'?" she purred, kissing him.

He nodded. "Yeah. Just wait until you see it, Harl."

Harley beamed, kissing him again and trying to contain her excitement for tonight. She was sure it was going to be hot.

…

"Ok, pooh, open your eyes!" exclaimed the Joker, pulling his hands away from her eyes.

Harley obeyed, looking around the Rec Room. Her face fell as she realized nothing was different about it. "Um…where's the surprise, Mr. J?" she asked, turning to him.

"Here, silly!" he said, going over to the TV and plugging into two microphones. He flicked on the TV as music began playing and words began appearing on the screen.

"What…is it, Mr. J?" asked Harley, slowly.

"Karaoke!" he said, beaming at her. "If I couldn't have a musical montage break up, I wanted to have a musical montage reunion! And it can't really be a montage, because what kinda montage can you have in Arkham? I mean, the whole place is designed to stifle your creativity. But it ain't a reconciliation if there ain't singing and dancing, am I right, pumpkin?"

Harley listened to the music for a moment. "Did Elton John give you permission to use this?" she asked.

"I didn't ask him," retorted Joker. "Didn't wanna have to kill him too. He is a knight, y'know, and the only knight I want dead is a Dork one!" he chuckled.

Harley giggled, taking one of the microphones from him. He turned up the volume on the TV and took Harley's hand, pulling her close.

"_Don't go breaking my heart,  
I couldn't if I tried.  
Honey if I get restless,  
Baby you're not that kind…_"

"Why are Harley and J singing Elton John?" asked Two-Face, drawing away from Ivy in the janitor's closet.

"Because they're crazy," retorted Ivy, pulling him back to her. "Just shut up and kiss me."

"_Don't go breaking my heart,  
You take the weight off me.  
Honey when you knocked on my door,  
I gave you my key._

_Nobody knows it,  
When I was down,  
I was your clown.  
Nobody knows it,  
Right from the start,  
I gave you my heart,  
I gave you my heart. _

_So don't go breaking my heart  
I won't go breaking your heart  
Don't go breaking my heart._"

They had been dancing together, and as the song ended, Harley collapsed in a fit of giggles, pulling Joker down onto the sofa on top of her.

"Happy anniversary, baby," he murmured.

"Happy anniversary, Mr. J," she whispered, kissing him. She beamed at him and then said, "And now we can go have sex, right?"

"I guess," he sighed. "Though Harvey and Pammie might be some time in our janitor's closet. Oooh, I know what'll be fun, pooh! While we're waiting for them to vacate, why don't we set up a bucket of flaming napalm that'll fall on Harvey and Pammie when they open the door to leave? That'll teach 'em to steal our space, and it'll really get me in the mood too! Nothing heats things up in the bedroom quicker than fire! And nothing says I love my little Harley pie like dropping a bucket of flaming napalm on unsuspecting bystanders, am I right, pooh?"

Harley smiled. "Sure thing, Mr. J," she whispered, kissing him.

**The End **


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